


Jack + Father's Day

by TANGOCHARLIE



Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Father's Day, Fluff, Gen, Team as Family
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-21
Updated: 2020-06-21
Packaged: 2021-03-04 02:14:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24842113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TANGOCHARLIE/pseuds/TANGOCHARLIE
Summary: It's father's day and Jack's turn to get schooled on familial love.
Relationships: Jack Dalton & Angus MacGyver (MacGyver TV 2016), Jack Dalton (MacGyver TV 2016) & Riley Davis
Comments: 8
Kudos: 65





	Jack + Father's Day

There was a certain level of silence he was accustomed to during the return trip home, but usually it was of the weary nature--the fading of adrenaline, the evaporating of sweat, the cleaning of wounds. 

It was also a comforting silence, spent in the company of friendships forged in fire--usually the case of literal fire--the sharing of nonverbal affirmations, the gentlest of touches, the solidarity in lives saved, whether it was theirs or someone else’s. 

Yet this unusual silence is void of anything...except  _ dread.  _

He made a mistake on their latest mission, and for once, neither Mac nor Riley seemed to comfort him about it. It wasn’t funny, it wasn’t cute, Jack’s mistake almost cost them everything and they had barely escaped with their lives on this one.

He had gotten an earful from Matty over the comms about it all, but it’s the stark silence and avoiding eyes from Mac that hurt him the most. 

He doesn’t even try to defend himself, just sits motionless in the corner of the plane while his friends share a private booth together on the opposite end. After a couple of minutes, his bones pop as he dares to peek his head around the seats, see if they had felt the same longing he did for things to just...go back to normal. 

But their faces are hidden from view, and Jack remains at a loss of words to say. 

They return to the Phoenix with no fanfare, Mac and Riley are the first off the plane. Mac shoots Jack a quick glance, with a short nod, the unspoken acceptance of Jack’s non-apology, and for a second, the corner of Jack’s lips lift up in a small smile while he can still see Mac’s face, but then Mac turns away, and his face falls behind him. 

He drags his feet to Matty’s office, and even Matty seems to be avoiding his eyes, focused more on the paperwork on her desk than the man standing uncomfortably in front of it. 

“Got the uhm...first draft of my report, in case you wanted to look it over, tell me what I need to re-write…” he clears his throat, offering the papers tentatively at the edge of the desk.

“Thanks, Dalton. Go home.”

He cocks his head, his eyebrows furrow in astonishment.

“That’s...that’s it?” 

“Yup. Get out of here. Get some rest.” 

“O...kay then, boss lady,” he nods. He walks out of the room, and is surprised when the door shuts behind him without another word, no teasing jabs, no snide remarks.

He almost smiles, and pulls out his phone to text Mac. 

_ Hey, so the Hun let me off early, figured I’d swing by with a six pack? _

He types out,  _ and we can talk about what happened?  _ Before he deletes it and sends his original message. 

He doesn’t want to come on too strong, especially if Mac’s feelings are hurt. 

He knows this day in particular is always a hard one for him.

Mac’s response comes minutes later, one word. 

_ Actually _

It’s trailed with the dancing of an ellipse trapped in the confines of a speech bubble. 

A dance that seems to last an agonizing amount of time. It feels like hours. 

In reality it’s less than a minute. 

_ Actually I can’t tonight. Got something going on. _

“Something going on,” meaning “something” that Mac wouldn’t tell him, something that would probably set off Jack if he did. 

It’s in this moment that he remembers today is Father’s Day. 

And he’s smart enough to solve that math equation. Mac’s probably spending time with his father, just as Riley had made mention of going over to Elwood’s after the mission. 

_ Oh. Cool man. No worries. _

His thumb hovers over the “send” button before he just erases the entire text. 

He decides maybe he should go back to his father’s grave, their morning conversation had been cut short after all, when the call had been made for the impromptu mission. Maybe that’s why he made a mistake. His head wasn’t in the right place. 

An explanation, not an excuse. 

He lets out the breath he didn’t realize he was holding as he walks by the lab where Bozer is engaged in an arm wrestling match with Sparky. 

“Jack, Jack, Jack!” Bozer snaps his fingers after a double take in seeing the man walking by. “C’mere, I need your help!” 

“Not tonight, Boze,” Jack groans in the doorway. “I’m headed home for the night.”

“You good? You’d  _ never  _ pass up the chance to wrestle a robot.”

“Yeah, I’m good, man. Good luck. My money’s on Spazzy.”

_ “Sparky,”  _ the robot buzzes.

“Whatever. Later.” 

He makes it home, spends about ten minutes flicking through channels and cd tracks and staring at his fridge before he gives up on cycling through options, electing to go lay in bed when his father’s dog tags slap against his chest and suddenly he’s back on the road, driving to the cemetery…

Until he gets a very distressing text message from Riley.

He pulls over and immediately texts her back, but doesn’t spare the seconds to wait until calling her immediately.

She doesn’t pick up, and he’s left in limbo as he waits for her to text him back.

“Damn kids and these damn phones,” he mutters. “Just talk to me, baby, c’mon!” 

_ Pizza and skeeball. Now.  _

It’s on the other side of town, but he’s fortunate enough to hit all the green lights before he nearly jumps out of his car before it’s fully parked in the oddly vacant parking lot. The lights in the building seem to be turned off, but it’s far too early in the night for it to be closed. 

His fingers flex around the butt of an invisible gun, curling into a fist ready to face whatever’s on the other side of the rotating door as he goes through--

“Surprise!” 

A roar of cheers and claps startle him, sending him backwards against the glass as lights and music erupt around him. His eyes wide, it takes him a few seconds before his vision actually returns to him, and he’s met with not only the members of his team, but the whole Phoenix Foundation, holding up a large banner. 

_ HAPPY FATHER’S DAY, JACK! _

“What...what is this?” he laughs. “I don’t got kids!”

“Not entirely true,” Riley quips as she walks up to him, standing on her tip-toes to wrap a hand around his shoulder. “You got us.”

“Is this why y’all have been so quiet with me all day?” he whispers after kissing her head. 

“Yeah, and Bozer was supposed to be the distraction while we completed the finishing touches,” Matty hands Jack a beer, and he realizes they must have rented the entire place out for this event. 

“No harm, no foul, though, Sparky said he’d be willing to take a rain check,” Bozer nudges Jack’s shoulder before they embrace in a tight hug. 

“Y’all, this...this is just...amazing. Thank you.”

“Anything for you, big lug,” Mac clasps a hand on Jack’s shoulder from behind, before placing a makeshift crown made out of tickets on top of his head. “Let’s get this party started!” 

Jack mingles for a bit, playing a game here and there as he sends his regards to the fellow fathers of the company, who had brought their kids for this once in a lifetime event. He’s overwhelmed with the copious amounts of beer and pizza and general sensory overload but it’s never felt so  _ good.  _

He manages to steal a few seconds away with Riley at the prize counter as they overlook the game floor. 

“So...what did you get Elwood for Father’s Day?” Jack asks with a casual snarl in his tone, but a forcibly lacking expression in his face before he hides his lips with his drink. 

“Nothing. Spent all my money on you, actually,” Riley smirks. She plants a kiss on Jack’s cheek, gripping his shoulder as she stands on her toes to reach his head. He’s reminded of one of their last nights together, the night she slipped and called him something other than “Dalton” or the other...flavorful nicknames she had created for him. Rather, it was the night she had called him “Jack,” and asked him for advice, showed her gratitude with a soft but rushed kiss before darting out of the room in embarrassment while Jack had simply gaped after her, touching his hand to his smooched skin and wishing he could tattoo the sensation to his body.

The night before he had ruined it all...or so he thought, because this moment is as good as any for him to fully understand the phrase, “time heals all wounds.”

“Thanks, Dad,” she whispers into his ear, before she runs off like the little girl he remembers daring him to play an intense game of air hockey, the loser having to do the dishes when they got back to Riley and Diane’s apartment.

Back  _ home.  _

As Riley leaves his view, with the lingering homely feeling on his mind, naturally, he starts to look for Mac. He finally locates him in the far corner of the restaurant, long legs stretching underneath the table of a booth as one hand tinkers with something, while the other is wrapped around a beer bottle.

“Mind if I scooch in here?” Jack grunts as he plops down next to his friend, appreciating the comparative silence from the rest of the building. 

Mac seems to appreciate it too, so for once Jack lets the silence sit until Mac speaks up after a long, drawn out swig of his beer. 

“Cage was wrong, you know.”

Jack’s face scrunches in confusion, and slight shock at the first mention of the woman he’s heard out of Mac’s lips in months. 

“About what?”

“About you being the ‘crazy uncle,’” Mac elaborates in air quotes. “Far as I’m concerned, you’re the ultimate Dad friend. And...I know we’ve been to hell in back looking for my ‘real’ Dad”--more air quotes, a small amount of beer spills out of the loosely gripped neck of Mac’s bottle--“But...it somehow took me that to realize that the man...the  _ love  _ I was looking for...was right in front of me all along.” 

Jack’s lips stretch and shrink on his face, the tears fall into the crinkles of his cheeks, decorate the lines of his crow’s feet. 

“Happy father’s day, Jack,” Mac offers up what he was toying with in his hand, a paperclip, twisted into the celtic symbol for “father.” 

Jack reels Mac in for a side hug, cupping his hand on the side of Mac’s head as he nuzzles his own head on top of it.

“I love you, buddy.”


End file.
